Category Archives: heritage

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Stampede Extravaganza

evening-show-main-hero-1440x600

(internet photo)

Yahoo, yee-haw, yippee-ki-yay
another Stampede is underway.
The city is buzzing
with tourists from afar,
chuck wagons and horses continue to star.
Cowboy hats, and cowboy boots
two-step, stomp and dance to wee hours,
the midway offers spinning rides
and exotic food to devour.
It’s a great big party
for one and all,
Calgary’s Stampede –
better than a Game of Thrones ball.

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Wedding Feast Preparations

polish plate(internet photo)
Women gather in the kitchen
lots of chatter as they greet and hug.
Cousins giggle and dart underfoot
before they’re put in place with a firm tug.

Baba dusts off aprons, Aunty sharpens knives.
Mama orchestrates a sizzling bacon two-step, crisp and precise.
It’s like a kitchen polka where busy hands mince and chop,
links of kielbasa fall in unison, all the perfect size.

Pickled rich with dill and garlic
cellar jars of ogorki-kisome they bring;
use only those smaller than a finger
for a tiny, green appetizer zinger.

Sour cabbage mellows, rolls just right,
“pigs in a blanket” tradition wrapped up tight,
timed to explode flavour with the first bite.

Holubsti! Holubsti! children lick their lips,
women grease the pans. They sculpt savoury treats
to fill colourful plates for the feast.

Baba’s stories bake deep in the oven
Aunty prods, she pokes and tastes.
Mama’s laughter bubbles high,
she makes sure nothing goes to waste.

The table is set with fine china,
crystal rainbows arc cloth from a loom.
Steaming recipes from the old country
piggyback newlywed wishes into the room.

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Mother’s Day Gratitude

Light-in-Heart

(internet photo)

My heart swells with gratitude for:
French toast in the morning and burgers at night
sunshine on a golf course
long distance phone calls
text messages
blonde hair, blue eyes and a big smile
yellow orchids
cupcakes with sticky icing
Dutch accents
watching Game of Thrones
laughing about Game of Thrones
hugs
gently falling rain

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Speechless 



 
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
  


Words have fled my lips,

like moulting feathers that litter the ground,

useless.

My heart is in my throat.

I see abundance.

Numerous seals and penguins dot the landscape

like so many pixels creating an image.

Great beauty rises from stark surroundings.

Thick glaciers melt into leaping waterfalls,

cascade to the sea.

Wash over red rust whaling station scars

that blister the horizon.

Macabre glory days over,

sea and salt air reclaim what once ignored her.

Beleaguered oil containers lean into the future

waiting for cargo that will no longer fill

their insatiable appetite.

Once we pillaged the sea,

now the earth. 

			


	

	


		
			

	

				

						
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							A Day of Giving Thanks
					

			


	
	

		
Trees yawn. Outdoor colors fade.

Wind cools short days.

Leaves skip and dance, filling corners

with secrets.

A gust sends them tittering

like giggling school girls excited

about tomorrow night’s party.


Family and friends gather.

Hands join, heads bow

around sacrificial bird stuffed

with hopes and dreams for another year.


Thanks are given for food on plates

and warm homes.

Thanks for nature’s bounty.

Thanks for peace in our country.

Thanks for a day to remember love

that surrounds us.

Thanks, simply, for the magical gift of life.


Winter prepares to blanket sleepy earth.

Cold fingers nudge into night.

			


	

	


		
			

	

				

						
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							Apothecary Cabinet
					

			


	
	

		
The many drawers

of an exquisite

apothecary cabinet

catch my eye.

Lustrous brownish-black

wood with a hint of purple,

appears to glow

from within.


Strong straight wood grain

is etched with delicate

curls and waves.

A unique beauty stands

before me.


I am transported

to a long ago time.

A dark haired man with

gentle hands grinds a

mortar and pestle.

A young woman with a limp

child in her arms

stands rocking

side to side

waiting patiently for the

apothecary to complete

a potion for her son.


Spices, tobacco, dried herbs,

mortar and pestles,

spoons and scales,

can be seen

in various drawers.


I wonder about the

compartments in my life.


My home, the shell I live in.

Filled with carefully chosen

art and trinkets to adorn walls,

soft blankets and bright colors

strategically placed in homage

to an identity I continue

to seek.


My car, a familiar cocoon

I enter each morning

and hurtle down roadways

to open the door into

another compartment

where I will spend

eight hours of my day;

one third of a revolution

around the sun.


My life is a series

of moving from compartment

to compartment

with only

slight adjustments

along the way.


As I continue to look at the

beautiful cabinet before me,

rich in history and

memories polished

into the wood,

I look skyward and envision

a great alchemist

looking down.

A great alchemist

peeking into the drawers

of my apothecary life

waiting to see what

combination of materials

I will choose

from the many compartments

before me.

			


	

	


		
			
		
			

	

				

						
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							Captivating Specimen
					

			


	
	

		
Glossy illustrations float

colorful characters and exotic places

before a little boys sparkling blue eyes.

His smile stretches to surround his mom and dad

with youthful delight as he carefully

turns the pages of his new book.


She blows a cloud of dust

off the leather jacket of a book she pulls

from a small wooden table. Vibrant

ink drawings take her breath away.

“Is this for sale?” she asks

the garage sale proprietor.


A stiff black inspector’s boot

stumbles on a buried article in cooling ashes.

His gloved hand retrieves a charred book.

The embossed cover and bright images still visible

bring a grim smile to the fireman’s face.

With a sad heart he tosses the book in the garbage.